


The Shoot First and Ask Questions Later Type of a Guy

by Alliemackenzie28



Series: H50/ Sentinel Verse [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7266529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliemackenzie28/pseuds/Alliemackenzie28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is a Sentinel whose temporary Guide was murdered along with his father. His senses are so out of control that he checks himself into a nursing home and drugs himself just to escape the pain. It's clear to everyone that he doesn't have long to live. And then he meets his Danny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, here it is, unbetaed. Probably gonna be changes. I'm pretty hard on Steve in this one. Also you should know that I don't write deathfics. Enjoy! (:

Two weeks later, Danny was in a cab in Honolulu, Hawaii. The scenery flashed by, and he really didn’t register much apart from sand, sun, and boobs on the way to the nursing home. Maunalani Nursing was housed in a low white building with nicely landscaped lawns and lots of porches and palm trees. Not a bad place to be stuck, if you had to be stuck somewhere, thought Danny as he pulled open the door and felt the A/C hit him. He waited for the secretary behind the front desk to hang up the phone.  
“Hi- I’m here to meet Stephen Mcgarrett?” said Danny. The secretary smiled.  
“You must be Mr. Williams. Hold on.” She picked up the phone again. “Alani, that Guide is here to meet Steve. Do you want me to send him down or do you need time to pull meds? Oh. Ok, cool, thanks.” She gestured to a group of chairs and switched back to her professional voice. “If you’d like to have a seat, someone will be with you shortly.”  
Danny sat, taking his book out of his bag. He’d had this literature teacher in sixth grade who’d told them to always have emergency reading materials. It had taken him years to realize it, but that lady had been a genius. He was currently flip flopping between Sanberg’s Principles and Practice of Guidance and Ellison’s How the Sentinel Got His Senses and Other Not So Tall Tales. The books, like the men, were a strangely good pairing.  
A tall Hawaiian woman in dark blue scrubs and black crocs strode across the lobby towards him, and he stuffed the books back in his bag and rose, extending his hand.  
“Danny Williams.”  
“Alani Kamaka, I’m the Director of Nursing. Let’s talk in my office.”  
They sat down on either side of her desk in a large, spacious office that smelled like pineapple and something frilly and tropical. Alani looked him in the eye.  
“Danny, I’m going to be very honest here. Steve is deteriorating quickly. I’m not sure exactly how long he has, but right now, we’re focusing on palliative measures. Keeping his senses in check, controlling pain-”  
“Wait,” interrupted Danny, “This guy’s dying?” Alani pursed her lips.  
“Steve’s condition is very serious. We switched to tube feeding last month, but he’s still losing weight, and that combined with the stress of being unguided… He’s stopped fighting. You need to know that going in, and you need to understand that there may be nothing you can do for him, ok?” Her tone is gentle, like she’s explaining something to a child.  
“Ok,” said Danny. “This guy has, what, days left, what are we doing sitting here? If I can help him, I want to help him, let’s go.”  
Alani nodded and rose, handing Danny a thick manilla folder on their way out the door. “That’s Steve’s. Read up.”  
Outside the door, Alani explained that they hadn’t stopped the sedative drip until Danny had arrived, so Steve might take up to an hour to regain consciousness. When he did, there was no way to know what his condition would be. Again, Danny accepted the situation.  
“Well,” said Alani with finality. “He’s all yours.”

________________________________________________________

 

The only light in the room came from the monitors and a narrow slit in the curtains that covered the single window. It was a typical nursing home room- a dresser, an armchair, a folding chair, a bedside table, and a low hospital bed. The man in the bed lay still and limp, flat on his back, covered in layers of hospital blankets; he breathed so shallowly that Danny had to watch his chest for several seconds to make sure he was still alive. Tubes and wires tangled around him. Danny identified oxygen, an ng tube, a pulse ox, an iv, and a catheter. On his left wrist were four brightly colored bracelets- Danny could see the words FALL RISK, DNR (SPEC), and SENTINEL (5). Covered in livid bruises from iv’s, Steve Mcgarrett’s right arm lay on top of the covers, long fingers curled gently towards the palm. He was dangerously underweight.  
Danny dragged the folding chair over and sat down facing the head of the bed. Alani had been right- the man was dying. It was obvious in the pallor of his skin, the stillness of his body. The only signs of life were the shallow breaths and the crease between his eyebrows. Even unconscious, he was in pain. Careful not to bump the iv, Danny took Steve’s hand. His fingers were like ice, but as soon as Danny touched them, they twitched against his palm. Looking up, he found sunken, dark eyes focused on him.  
“I’m Danny Williams,” he said.  
“You’re a Guide.” Steve’s voice was a hoarse, slurred whisper.  
“Uh, yeah, I am,” said Danny, surprised. How could he tell? Steve’s brow furrowed, not in pain, but in question. “I got matched with you. I just graduated the Guide program at Rutgers and I couldn’t find a Sentinel at any of the cons, so I sent my stuff to Joe White, says he knows you- yeah?- yeah, so he sent me some matches, but you were the only one that came with free tickets to Hawaii, so here I am.” Dark eyes blinked up at him.  
“Go back.”  
“What?”  
“Don’t-” Steve’s words caught in his throat. “Don’t bond... with me. Prolly kill you.. when I die.” That shut Danny up for a second.  
“So you’re just gonna give up, is that it? Well screw this then.” Danny stood, pulling his hand away, but as he does, Steve’s hand follows his for a couple of inches before dropping back to the bed. The dark eyes are closed, the crease back between the eyebrows. Danny takes one look at the guy and sits back down, cause he can’t do it. He can’t just leave this man to fade out like this without even trying to help him. He grabs Steve’s hand, and the dark eyes snap open.  
“Hey! I’m not leaving. No arguing. You’re right, I am a Guide, but I’m not one of those gentle Yoga hippie people with herbs and shit.” Steve manages to look surprised. “You look like you’re too tired to argue, so, what are you gonna say, that I should save myself or something? Ok, so you might die, fine. But how the hell am I gonna feel when I get *that* email, huh? Dear Danny, just so you know, that guy you abandoned on his pineapple island without even trying to help? He starved to death cause you couldn’t stick around and walk him through controlling his insano taste buds, have a nice day, love Joe. Not gonna happen, buddy.” Steve blinks up at him, takes a breath deep enough that Danny can hear the rattle.  
“Kay,” he whispers.  
“Ok.” Danny realizes that he stood up at some point, and sits back down. “So where do we start?”

________________________________________________________

 

He ends up starting by reading the file Alani gave him, because it turns out Steve’s too weak to stay awake for more than like ten minutes at a time. It’s typical Sentinel stuff, plus typical military stuff, and then a bunch of pages with most of the lines blacked out. In the middle of reading report after report on Steve’s deteriorating health over the last year, Danny finds himself having to look away for a minute because he’s nearly in tears. And it’s then that he realizes- he’s experiencing exactly what all those guides wrote about when they found their Sentinel. Danny looks down at Steve’s face, peaceful in sleep, and knows that somehow, he’ll be ok. Steve’s eyes drag open and turn towards him, not quite focused.  
“Hands are warm,” he rasps. It takes Danny a second to realize that they’re still holding hands, and he almost jerks back, but stops himself.  
“My hands are warm? Yeah, yours are really cold.” Steve gives him a tiny nod.  
“Are your hands always cold?” Another nod.  
“Cause you’re underweight. Yeah. Guess that means the rest of you is cold too, right?” Steve shrugs.  
“That sucks. Um… Let me go see if they have any heating pads. I’ll be right back.” He returns empty handed a few minutes later and scowls at Steve.  
“They say you can’t have a heat source because you’re ‘impaired’ and can’t tell them if it’s burning you. Morons. How the hell are you supposed to get better if you can’t even get warm?” Steve gives him a look like, see what I’m dealing with here? Danny feels a surge of protective anger that turns to excitement as he realizes that he could actually be in a position to do something about this. He takes a deep breath. Now or never. Literally.  
“So. This place is really bad for you, right?”  
“Yeah, but...” starts Steve resignedly, “ ‘s better than being outside… without a Guide. Got good drugs.”  
“What if you had a Guide? What-” Steve cuts him off, pulling his hand away.  
“No.”  
“What? You think you’re being some kind of hero, saving me from yourself? Well I got news for you-” Steve flinches as Danny’s voice gets louder and he lowers his voice.  
“Sorry. Look. I’m really new at this, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I think we’re a really good match.” He waits for steve to respond but the SEAL just stares up at him.  
“It’s not as obvious on my end, so you gotta tell me if I’m wrong about this, ok, cause I’m… How do I say I’ve developed some really strong feelings over the last three hours, and despite the fact that- that Bonding- was talked about in school like condoms in middle school sex ed, I’m really feeling pretty ok about this.” There, he’d said it. The forceful pull towards Steve had been growing steadily stronger, and until he’d used the word just now, Danny hadn’t fully realized- or admitted to himself- what he was feeling. This was the beginning of a Bond.  
Steve’s eyes grew wide. “You gotta... leave now,” he wheezed, shifting restlessly. He had to pause for air every few words. “Please… Danny, please go… before we bond… ok?”  
“I don’t understand why you want me to leave. Do you not want to live?”  
“I want… you to live.”  
“Do you not want to bond with me?”  
Steve huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh. “No, I want to… trust me, you’re…” He swallowed hard. “If I could… I would…”  
“So why not?” Demanded Danny, frustrated. “Are we not a good match?” The corner of Steve’s mouth twisted upwards in a smile that was belied by the sadness in his eyes.  
“No, we… we’re good…” Steve turned his head towards the wall. “I’m done. I don’t… I can’t…”  
Danny was not one to burst into tears at a moment’s notice. He was usually the one comforting others when they broke down, but this guy was really getting to him. His whole life, he’d heard about the amazing things that could be accomplished by a well- matched, Bonded Sentinel and Guide pair. Mamo had spoken about Eileen in a way that made Danny want something like that for himself. Danny knew he was a hard match, knew he wouldn’t find another Sentinel easily. He’d be ok, make a living, maybe even Bond, but there was no way to know if he’d ever find someone like Steve again. His Sentinel was slipping away in front of him. Danny brushed tears from his eyes and took the Sentinel’s icy, trembling hand. Steve turned back towards him.  
“You really want… to be with me?” he whispered.  
“Yeah, I really do,” said Danny.  
“W- why?” 

Steve flinched hard as an alarm went off on one of the monitors. A highlighted square was flashing the number 88 and beeping. A nurse walked into the room, unhurried, and turned off the alarm.  
“Talking again, Steve?” she said, adjusting a piece of gray rubber on one of Steve’s fingers. Her hand brushed his IV tubing and he went even paler than before. The alarm went off again, and this time there were two flashing squares- the first one now said 86, and the one above it said 128. The blue line now spiked and dropped crazily instead of gently flowing up and down like it had before. “Steve, what’s going on, honey?” asked the nurse, shaking him gently. Steve’s eyes were still on Danny.  
The nurse took the gray rubber off Steve’s finger and put it on her own; the alarms stopped almost immediately, and the readings changed to 98 and 88. After rubbing Steve’s hand between her own for a second, she stuck his finger back into the rubber tube, flicking her gaze towards the monitor. Almost as soon as she did, the alarms came back, and the numbers flashed again; 82 and 145. Steve was starting to look gray and unfocused. The nurse- Amy, Danny saw on her ID- yanked the door open and flicked on the lights, making Steve wimper in pain.  
Amy worked with calm efficiency and was obviously good at her job, but Danny couldn’t shake the desire to shove her out of the way and huddle protectively over Steve. Another nurse, a guy whose ID was flipped around backwards so Danny couldn’t read his name, entered the room with an oxygen mask, which he hooked up to the wall behind Steve’s bed and placed over Steve’s nose and mouth, gently lifting Steve’s head to put the strap around.  
The door swung further open as Alani came in pushing a metal cart, all business, eyes quickly scanning the monitors, then Steve’s face. Another alarm went off, and two more people came in, and Danny was forced into a corner.  
“Bag!” said one of the female nurses. Steve’s eyes, still on Danny, finally slid shut as someone yanked the oxygen mask off his face and replaced it with a different mask- this one had a yellow plastic balloon attached to it instead of the air bag thing the other one had. Amy was holding the new mask, and wrenched Steve’s head back, pressing down hard with both hands as someone Danny couldn’t see compressed the balloon.  
“I can’t get a pressure,” said the nurse with the flipped nametag from the opposite side of the bed. Steve’s right arm was flung over his head and Alani jabbed two fingers into the muscle on the inside of her upper arm.  
“Ooh, boy,” she said, straightening and running a hand through her hair. “Mike, compressions.” The guy put one knee on the bed next to Steve and leaned all his weight on him, pressing with both hands. It looked violent, too hard and too fast, making Steve’s arm flop around where it hung off the bed. Alani was suddenly in Danny’s face.  
“What’s going on?” he asked, even though he already knew.  
“He’s crashing. And he’s a DNR- that means that he signed a document asking us not to try to save him if he starts to go.”  
“But-”  
“But, he modified it to say that if there’s a Guide present, that Guide may choose to attempt a Bond in order to save his life, and if the Bond is successful, the Guide then gets medical POA- they can make medical decisions for him. This is your choice and you do not have to do this.” Danny interrupted her, pushing towards Steve.  
“Yeah, of course I’ll try. No idea what I’m doing but yeah, I’ll give it a shot, I can’t just let him die, can I?” Alani met his eyes and nodded.  
“Stop compressions. Amy, stay in here, everybody else can go. Hit the lights on your way out.”  
Danny wished he had time to think this through, to talk to Steve more, to get used to the idea that he’d found a match. But the gray- blue in Steve’s lips spurred him on. He sat on the edge of the bed, hip to hip with the other man. Steve’s skin was cool and clammy under Danny’s hands, one behind his neck, one on his forehead. As the spirit world appeared before his eyes, he could still see Steve’s real face, but it was overlayed by a translucent copy. The spirit opened its eyes and looked up at him, curious.  
“Steve?” asked Danny, not sure if he was speaking aloud or just in his mind.  
“Danny?” asked the spirit. “What’s going on?”  
“Your heart stopped, buddy. You’re scaring the shit out of me right now, so you gotta wake up, ok?”  
“You’re staying? I don’t want to come back if you’re not gonna be there. You’re my Guide.”  
“I’m staying. Just wake up and I’ll be right here, ok? Please, buddy, you can do this. Can you feel my hands? Focus on my hands and my voice.” And Steve starts glowing. Not spirit glowing, actually glowing. Danny was aware of Amy and Alani stepping back from them as he saw his own hands start to glow. There was no single moment of connection, just a gradually growing awareness of each other. Dizziness washed over Danny as he held his Sentinel, pouring himself into the dying man, giving his strength, his heat, his life. In the real world, Steve’s body jerked and he sucked in a stuttering breath.  
“Buddy, you back?” cried Danny. Steve’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, but slammed shut against the light. Deep coughs tore through his chest. Danny lifted Steve’s upper body and held him against his chest as he gasped and wheezed, held him until the coughing died down and the alarms stopped blaring. A hand grasped folds of Danny’s shirt.  
“You’re so warm,” came Steve’s raspy voice. It was the most beautiful sound Danny had ever heard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny's got his work cut out for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told my husband I was writing, and he thought that was super cool and just begged me to tell me what it was about. So I told him it was fanfiction, and when I explained it he didn't think I was weird, so I told him it was H50 fic and he didn't think that was weird either- in fact he was starting to sound like he liked the whole concept. I asked him if he'd still love me if I gave Steve and Danny superpowers and he said omg yes, so we went for a walk and I explained the entire history of fic, all the way from Kirk/ Spock slash zines to the Mag7 ATF AU to how everyone agrees that The Sentinel is one of those shows where the fic is better than canon, and the transition from zines to mailing lists to websites, and what's a crossover and what's an AU and how J2 knows about Destiel how Scott might be on board with McDanno. And he said 'that is so cool,' and that's the story of how I have the best husband ever.

“Man, I’m glad your insurance covers stuff for me, cause I am seriously broke right now,” said Danny, checking his bank account online. He was sitting on Steve’s couch, in Steve’s house, with Steve’s perpetually cold feet in his lap. The Sentinel himself was propped upright with pillows and wrapped in every blanket Danny’d been able to find. He blinked tired eyes at the Guide.   
After they’d bonded, they’d decided that the hospital was the worst place Steve could possibly be, so they’d checked out AMA and gone home. At the hospital, an orderly had helped Steve from the wheelchair to the passenger seat of his car, but the drive had exhausted him and by the time they got home he could barely hold his head up, let alone walk. So Danny had scooped Steve up and carried him up the front steps and inside to the couch.   
“Ya hungry?” asked Danny once Steve was comfortable and semi- warm.  
“No,” said Steve definitively. “Just…” He gestured at the feeding tube that was still taped to his cheek.  
“You gotta eat, man, or you are never gonna gain any weight.”  
“Just puke it back up.” Danny turned to face him.  
“What do you mean, you can’t? What about SenSafe stuff?” Steve shook his head.  
“Still too sensitive. Everything’s dialed all the way up. Only reason I’m not passed out from pain is cause the drugs haven’t worn off yet.”  
Danny nodded. “Ok, so no food yet. I know I’m supposed to be the strong one here or whatever, but you’re gonna have to help me out cause I’ve never actually Guided anybody except for a couple of my professors and some chick that zoned at a match con. I mean, I know what to do in principle, but, ok, don’t take this the wrong way but you are like trial by fire here man, so you gotta tell me what you need.”  
“Need to…” Steve swallowed. And Danny watched his Adam’s apple. Where had that come from? “Need to turn everything down.”  
“Ok, well you’ve done dials before, right?” Danny breathed a sigh of relief. Coaching a Sentinel through dialing down was something that had been drilled into him in training. Steve looked down at his hands, folded in his lap.  
“Yeah…” He paused, and Danny let the silence stretch. “We can try that, yeah.” Danny nodded and wrapped his strong square hands around cold thin ones. Lowering his voice, he talked Steve through each dial until the Sentinel pulled his hands away, grimacing. “Think I need some more pain meds.”  
“The dials didn’t work?” asked Danny, surprised.  
“They were never great. Guess I’m too…” Steve waved his hands around his head. “... whatever for them to work. Never even used a tv with a volume dial before.” Danny’s mind went to work on the problem immediately.  
“Huh,” he said, and Steve winced. “Sorry. Pain meds first. Get some rest, and then we can do a couple cans of that Levity stuff. Jevity. Whatever. And then we can work on the dials. Sound good?” Steve nodded carefully.   
Danny grabbed Steve’s pain pills, wrote the time and dose on the pad he’d put on the kitchen counter, and brought everything into the living room. After setting out all his equipment on the coffee table, he crushed the pills in the (super nifty, he thought) pill crusher he’d picked up at the hospital pharmacy. Feeling like he needed three more hands, he carefully tapped the powder into the large plastic syringe- and all over the table.   
“Shit, shit, shit,” whispered Danny, without much real anger. He tapped the remaining powder out of the syringe so he didn’t overdose his Sentinel on the first day and tried again. Crush the pill, open the syringe, carefully pour the powder in, keep the other end covered with a thumb, pour water into the syringe- and the floor- well, it’ll dry- stick plunger in while not squirting Percocet all over his pants, and shake. Danny looked up to find Steve watching him, smiling.   
“I was just instructing myself out loud on how to do your meds, wasn’t I?” said Danny with a chuckle. “Hey, you’re smiling! That’s good!” Steve handed him the end of his NG tube. Danny popped the little purple cap off like the nurse had showed him, pinched the tube into a kink, and poked the syringe into the hole. Slowly, he pushed the plunger, watching the murky water flow towards Steve’s nose. It was gross and cool at the same time. Syringe empty, Danny again pinched the tube, popped the syringe out, and reached for a bottle of water to flush with. But he couldn’t reach- suddenly he was tied to Steve by the tube.  
“Uh…” he looked around for a solution. “Can you-” Steve actually laughed this time as he took the pinched end of the tube from Danny and recapped it.  
“Never be a nurse, just as a favor to humanity,” said Steve, a little slurred. Danny splayed his free hand across his chest in mock offense.  
“Me? I would make an excellent nurse, I’ll have you know.” Uncap the water bottle, suck up 12 cc’s, pinch the tube, uncap, place the syringe, and whoosh- clear water flowed up through the tube. Steve looked up at him, suddenly serious.  
“You know what, you’re right. You make a great nurse.” Steve scooched down until he was lying nearly flat, and pulled the blanket up to his chin. “Thanks.”  
“No prob. Be here when you wake up.”


End file.
